


By Any Other Name

by sksdwrld



Series: Rock the Cradle [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fights, Gen, Parenthood, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie finds out her son has been seen with the child of two people she hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

It was early in the afternoon when Marshall got back from seeing his agent about a miniseries. His mother was sitting on the oversized ottoman in the living room, one leg crossed over the other and bouncing vigorously as she snapped her gum.

"Hey Ma," he said, turning sideways to shuffle past her on the way to his room. All he wanted was to change into something comfortable, go for a run and hit the pool after spending half the day cooped up in Hank's office.

"Sit down, Marshall," Eddie said brusquely.

Marshall jerked in surprise and looked his mother over before flinging himself down on the nearest couch cushion. He huffed and tried not to roll his eyes. "What is it now?"

Eddie unfurled the magazine that she had clenched in her fist and held it out to him. There was a collage of photos depicting him alongside Ro, in various settings: laughing over coffees, strolling side by side on Venice Beach, laden with bags as they shopped. All the shots were completely innocuous and he couldn't understand what had his mother in knots. He'd been depicted in more compromising positions in high school, and shrugging, Marshall handed it back to her. "So?"

Eddie scowled and pointed at Ro with a lime green manicured nail. "You have any idea who this is?"

"My friend Ro?" he replied obtusely.

"Ro." Eddie repeated. "Ro _Noriega_."

"Yeah," Marshall said, starting to get irritated by the lack of direction in the conversation. "And?"

"She's trash, Marshall. I don't want you hanging around her-"

"Oh my God!" Marshall laughed but he was affronted. "You don't even know her!"

"This is a very small world, Marshmallow, whether you want to believe it or not, and I know the little tramp's parents. Her mother is a silly little whore who broke up a family and her father is a piece of shit alcoholic with brain damage. In fact, I think your father recently had it out with her brother, Sebastián, on the forum. You know- the smackhead, works for UPS...Their whole family is bad news and that little red-mouthed slut you've been carting around with isn't any different. She'll drag you down. That's what Noriega's do, Marshy. They did it to Elliot and they'll do it to you too."

"I can't even believe you! Did you just slut-shame? You? Mom, you did a whole campaign about that."

"It's one thing to have multiple sex partners, Marshall, and you know how I feel about respecting yourself and your body but there is something else altogether about men and women who knowingly entice married people, people with families. Infidelity runs rampant in their DNA, I'm telling you. Stay away from that girl." Eddie gestured pointedly toward him.

Marshall shook his head. "I'm eighteen and you can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with. I have a career, and networking is part of it. You, of all people, know that."

"Marshall, if you cared about me at all-"

"Oh, don't start that bullshit, Mom." Marshall pushed to his feet. "Your stupid feud with Ro's parents has nothing to do with me. We're friends, as you can see. The paps probably took hundreds of shots and we're not so much as holding hands in a single one of them. Chillax, seriously."

"Don't you tell me to...to... _chillax_ , Marshall Edward Malone!" Eddie shrilled.

Marshall rolled his eyes. This was going to be one of those times that his mom worked herself up over nothing. The only person who had a chance of straightening her out was his father. "Well, Dad will tell you then, because you're being unreasonable."

That was the wrong thing to say. Eddie's face darkened and she leaned forward as she hissed, "Your father gets no say in this matter! He's friends with the little tramp's mother for one reason or another..."

"You know what, Mom?" Marshall said, turning into the hallway "Let it go." When he got to the bedroom, he stripped off his shirt and belt, then rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He shouldn't have been surprised that she'd followed him; like a pit bull with a frisbee, his mother never wanted to drop it. Nevertheless, the sound of her voice, cold and hard, startled him for the second time.

"Keep your dick out of her, Marshall. The last thing I need right now is a little spic-grandbaby."

"Mom!" Marshall was horrified. Neither of his parents had ever shown any indication of racism in the past.

"I said it before and I'll say it again; you're too good for her. You've got a promising career and you're smart, but none of your families have a good track record when it comes to being ready for babies. Don't fuck your life up on account of a no-good trick."

Glowering in response, Marshall pushed off his khakis. "I'll take it under advisement, thanks, Mom. And sorry for fucking up your life."

"That isn't what I meant, Marshy, and you know it!" Eddie slapped her palm on the door frame. "Let me tell you something..."

"I think you've said enough." Marshall advised and turned his back on her. By the time he had finished drawing on his running clothes, she was gone. He went out the back door to avoid seeing her, chainsmoking on the porch and turned left toward the park.

Marshall ran until he was sweat drenched and too exhausted to do anything other than trudge back home. Emma was sitting at the kitchen table when he got back. "Hey," he managed, pinching the stitch in his side before reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water.

Emma stopped playing with her phone and looked up. "You made Mum pull her hair out."

"What?" Marshall asked, then groaned. "Shit, where is she?"

"Went to the therapist. She left money for takeout, said you had to call Dad and see if he'd pick it up on his way home."

"Aw, fuck..." Marshall complained, yanking the ear buds out of his phone and switching off the mp3 player.

"Yup," Emma grinned. "You are so dead."


End file.
